Mind Over Matter
by mysteriousQuack
Summary: Andy's emotions get the better of her and she almost ruins her relationship with Sam, or so she thinks; they aren't speaking. Then both are assigned to an investigation. Will an accident bring them closer together, or forever destroy their friendship?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own _Rookie Blue_ or any of the characters from it.**

**Also, this is my first TV Show Fanfiction, so please review it! It would make me happy and improve my writing. =]**

**Oh yes, and this story can be continued, but I would like to know your opinions.**

**Thank you!**

Andy couldn't believe she had to go to this investigation site with Sam of all people. After that morning, when she was compelled to kiss him and told Traci about it, she would never have guessed he would have been ten feet behind her and overheard the conversation. Andy knew that it was so, so wrong, falling in love with a training officer, and she was well aware of that. But after him overhearing it, well she didn't want to be anywhere near him.

But yet, there she was, on a mission to a suspicious building at ten o'clock at night. Just her luck. Feelings and emotions sucked. Andy internally screamed. Why did Sam have to be so attractive looks wise as well as personality wise!

Andy's personal life was currently a mess. The breakup with Luke had only been two weeks ago and already she was so attracted to Sam. She knew she had been from the beginning, but it the feeling was just making itself known now.

Andy felt so awkward being inside the squad car with Sam. He was driving and staring straight ahead, not blinking, and Andy had her elbow next to the window and head on her hand. It was raining a little bit, and it was dreary outside, which would have made her day, if not for the little fact of the morning's earlier events.

Andy thought: _I screwed up so bad. I should never have let my emotions get the better of me, let alone allow them to interfere with my work. I'm a cop, for God's sake. I need to squash down these feelings into a big, fat, nothing. Yeah. I can do that. Later. Right now I need to focus on where we're driving to and what's to be expected once we arrive there._

Prior to Andy being forced to accompany Sam, the station received an anonymous tip that a carjacker was taking refuge at an old church in the boondocks of the city. He wasn't reported to be armed at the time of the carjacking, but one could never be too sure. When the carjacking took place, the police were on him right away. He, however, managed to escape.

Sam and Andy were to get in the church, search the place, and get out. Unless they found the guy, in which case their instructions were to arrest him and haul him in. What Andy still had yet to understand was why she was chosen to accompany Sam and not Traci. Or Gail. Or even Dov or Chris.

The rain continued to patter down on the window of the car and silence continued to engulf the empty vehicle space. Sam still stared straight ahead. The light from the car's headlights bounced off the trees and created eerie shadows that danced on the roadway. Andy sighed audibly.

Then Sam showed signs of life. His head moved a miniscule amount in Andy's direction. She had apologized multiple times for what she had said and done, but now he was ignoring her for which she was mostly grateful.

Andy could actually _feel_ the tension in the car. But that realization is short-lived because they finally arrived at the abandoned church.

Andy quickly got out of the car and automatically removed all of the previous personal feelings from her mind, instead replacing them with protocol. Sam radioed in their positon.

She took out her gun and readied it, just like normal, standard procedure. She looked to her right and saw that Sam had gotten out of the car done the same. He motioned for Andy to follow him to the door of the church. It was obvious to Andy that all personal feelings had been set aside.

Andy took in her surroundings: the church was surrounded by trees, there were no vehicles or anything for that matter in the yard, and the church was right in the middle of the small clearing. It was run down and small; one story about the size of a typical ranch house. The paint was chipping everywhere and she could smell it from outside.

Both officers walked up to the massive oak doors of the church and found that one has been pushed aside, seemingly with great effort. Andy grabbed her flashlight at the same time Sam reached for his. He looked at Andy and told her to head back; there was supposedly a back door. Then Sam went ahead and knocked on the door, calling out "Police!"

There was indeed a back door, and Andy took position outside incase the fugitive foolishly decided to run. Her heart was racing like it always did when there could be a potential chace.

Andy tuned in to the sounds coming from inside with her keen ears. She heard Sam enter the small building, calling out and searching every square inch. The building had no electricity, so Andy knew it would be harder to catch small details.

She heard a door open and close quickly and then fast footsteps were coming towards the back door. Then Sam's voice sounded out.

"Police! Stop!" More footsteps were heard. A door slammed shut. Sam called out again, "Open the door!" A wooden door could be heard rattling in its frame. Then Andy heard a voice over her radio. "Go, McNally."

Andy acknowledged her cue and rammed into the old rotten door. It flung open and she pointed her gun with her flashlight straight ahead to look for the suspect. "Police! Show yourself!" she yelled. The flashlight only gave off a small, circular area of light, so she had to scan the room quickly. It was tiny and held a dusty desk and chair to the left. Andy swung her light to the right, but it was too late.

The suspect was standing in the corner. He was extremely tall and wore dark, baggy clothing. He also had a pistol pointed right at Andy with his finger on the trigger.

Before Andy could utter a word, he fired.

Andy jerked backward, but caught herself on the doorframe. Sam's frantic voice was faintly heard from the other side of the wall saying "Shots fired, I repeat, shots fired!" Andy felt a numbing sensation on her right side, but ignored it and quickly wrenched her gun back up and shouted, "Drop your weapon!" She was about to fire back but she didn't say it early enough, for the man raised the pistol to his temple and pulled the trigger again.

His head exploded in a pile of bloody mush and the rest of his body fell into a limp pile on the grimy floor.

Andy reached for her radio to call the fugitive's suicide, but before she could, a terrible pain exploded in her torso. Her hand flew down to the area between her right hip and underarm. She pulled it back up and put it in the way of the flashlight's light. It was covered in thick, dark liquid.

Blood.

The pain throbbed throughout her body and she cried out. It was then that Sam broke down the locked door and he charged into the room. Immediately he went to the suspect and saw that he was dead. There was such a look of shock on his face at the sight of the body; his eyes were extremely wide and his mouth popped open in an O.

"McNally, did you…?" he didn't finish his question, for the shock overpowered his voice.

Andy was about to answer that no, she did not kill him except she couldn't because her knees buckled and gave out, causing her to collapse in a heap onto the floor.

"McNally!" Sam yelled and ran to her side. His voice was strained with worry and concern.

Andy could feel her blood flowing out of her at a rapid pace. She didn't trust her voice, for fear of screams coming out. Her eyes rolled back into her head

"Officer down! Officer down!" Sam yelled into his radio. His voice broke once. He fell down beside her and pulled her limp body into his arms. He pushed aside her hand that was covering her right side and saw that her uniform was damp and soaked with blood. "Oh, God, McNally, no! Come on, McNally, stay with me now! You'll be fine. McNally! Andy!" Sam called out her name and there was such pain in his voice. He immediately applied intense pressure to the wound, hoping to at least partially stop the bleeding. "God damn it! Officer is shot! I need and ambulance now!" he shouted their location into the device. "Andy, please stay with me! Dear God, Andy, you cannot die on me! You will not die, not on my watch!" Sam rambled pleas to Andy's barely conscious body.

He cupped his strong hand to her face and whispered, "Please, McNally, please don't leave me,"

Andy's eyes came back to focus on Sam's anxious and agonized face. She was scarcely breathing. Sam continued to apply pressure to her side.

Again, she cried out in pain. Her nerves were on fire and alive with feeling. It was too much for her to bear. Sam could see the life flowing out of her, like the blood that seeped out from underneath his insistent hands.

He felt her heartbeat falter and her breathing slow to a scary speed. "Where the hell is that ambulance!" he exclaimed into his radio.

He didn't bother to listen to the response, for Andy's eyes had fluttered open for a second time.

"I knew it," she said. It was hardly audible because she simply didn't have the strength to make her voice any louder. Nor did she have the strength to keep her eyelids lifted. The last thing she saw was Sam's agonized face looking down at her. Behind her lids, she saw pulsating red and white lights. She heard sirens and yelling that she couldn't comprehend. She felt Sam shaking her, trying to wake her back to consciousness again. She could taste blood bubbling up into her mouth.

But none of that mattered. All that mattered was that Andy knew the truth. She knew that Sam cared about her as much as she cared about Sam.

She was swathed in a wonderful world of pain-free blackness with this comforting thought in her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:** I don't own _Rookie Blue_. This is purely FanFiction  
****=]**

Hospitals had always been one of Sam's least favorite places to be; it reminded him of being sick. But as he anxiously strode into the ICU, room 402, for the third time in one day, he was hardly concerned about the scenery. No, what he was concerned about was the stunning, remarkable young woman lying on one of the uncomfortable, white beds. Despite the multiple machines, tubes, IVs, and monitors hooked up to her fragile-looking body, she still managed to look beautiful.

However, all of the beauty that she possessed could never cover up the facts: Andy was in a coma.

It was horrifying to Sam that such splendor executed from Andy could turn so ugly when one really looked at her. Her normally soft, shiny brown hair was matted from lack of care, her lips, usually smooth, were chapped and slightly parted from heavy breaths and a previously inserted breathing tube. Her face, that lovely, lovely face, was pale and there were dark circles under her closed lids. Just the medical equipment itself was enough to distract a person from the natural beauty that lied beneath Andy's current imperfections. But they were invisible to Sam. All he saw was Andy. Beautiful Andy. The Andy he was so sure that he loved.

Not that he couldn't see all of the machines; he knew they were there. It hurt him so, so much to know that the reason she was in here was because of a stupid assignment he requested she accompany him on. No matter what others said to him, he knew in his heart that he was to blame for Andy's injury and, something he absolutely did not want to think about, possibly her death.

Sam tried with all of his might to push those horrid thoughts into the back of his exhausted mind, but just looking at her lying there was enough to almost bring him to tears.

He then realized that he was just standing dumbly in the doorway to her room.

_Get a hold of yourself, Sam_. He thought.

Sam shook his head vigorously and walked briskly into the room. The air smelled putrid with medicines. _Andy's medicines_, Sam thought.

He approached her bedside and found that the chair he had moved over was still in the exact location he had left it; a sign that he came here so much, no one bothered to move it back.

With a loud sigh, he plopped down into the rickety plastic white chair. The first time he came to visit her he had done the exact same thing. It almost felt like a routine plastered into his head. First he would sit down and sigh, then he would lean forward and put his elbows on his knees. Next he would place his tired head into his hands and run his fingers frustratingly through his tousled black hair. After that he would sigh again and just stare at McNally's face, hoping with all his heart and soul that this would be the day and time that she would wake up.

Of course, the last three days had been the exact same with no sign of recovery. Why should today be any different? Sam sighed yet again and ran through his standard routine he did every time he came here. He was amazed that his superiors agreed to let him visit so frequently. However, even if they didn't allow it, Sam knew he would do it anyway. Maybe they did too and that was why they were so lenient about it.

"Oh, McNally," Sam said aloud, "I'm so, so sorry. I never wanted you to get hurt like this, I should have been there. I should have just busted down that damn door to begin with. Andy, you have no idea. Just wake up for me, please. I don't think I would be able to go on if you never did; I—I care about you." He almost started blubbering.

He reached out and stroked her arm with the back of his hand. Her skin was so smooth, it almost felt like velvet. The touch made the guilt he felt sky-rocket to a never ending oblivion.

If—If she died, he could, no, would, never forgive himself.

He continued to caress her arm in hopes of maybe, just maybe, the touch would awaken something within her mind. Something that reminded her body that there were still people on this Earth that cared about her too much to be able to let her go so soon. She needed to know that Sam was one of those people.

"God damn it, McNally! I know you can wake up! You have to, you're strong enough, I know it!" Sam shouted. His guilt had manifested into a sudden wave of anger and he didn't know what else to do with it other than direct it at her. His hands had clenched up into fists of rage and his forearms had started to tremble a little.

"Gosh, what am I doing?" Sam's mood swings were starting to greatly annoy him. He figured it was all a part of the vicious guilt that he carried with him day after day, hour after hour.

"I'm sorry, Andy, It's not your fault. All of this," he motioned to the room and medical equipment, "is none of your fault. It's all mine. My entire fault you're here, all my fault that you're nearly dea-" And he couldn't help himself. Just the thought of the word was enough to make the tears he had held back overflow and spill over onto his crisp uniform. The salty liquid made dark splotches on the fabric.

Sam grasped Andy's small limp hand in his large one. It felt so weak and lifeless already.

"You just can't leave this world yet, Andy, you just can't. I have so much to tell you, you know. There are so many things that you just don't know and I need to tell you, I _have_ to. So I'll do it now. Because I don't know if you'll ever wake up," his voice broke off but he willed himself to continue because he realized that it was now or never.

He gulped in some air and tried again, "If you ever wake up, I may find the guts to tell you this in person, but for the moment, I'm just going to have to say it now." He was whispering now. If she were concious, he doubted she would even be able to hear his words, with or without her keen ears.

"McNally, Andy, I love you. I have been in love with you from the first day I set eyes on you. You're beautiful, but that word doesn't even cover it. You have such a great personality and I just love to be around you. I would die inside if you were to leave me.

"If you were to never wake again, you just need to know this: that conversation I overheard, when you were talking to Nash? That one about you wanting to kiss me? That morning, I wanted so badly to kiss you, too. So I guess I'll just have to make up for that now." Sam was nearly out of breath from all of his emotions mixing together and stealing his energy.

Regardless, he leaned forward in his cheap chair and placed his lips gently over Andy's. They tasted sweet to him; it was everything he ever hoped it to be.

His mouth traced a line along her jaw and towards her ear, where he quietly said, "I love you, Andy McNally. Know that. And, please, don't let go yet."

It was time for him to go. The doctors said that it was very unlikely she would recover. That was a little fact Sam had forgotten about until now. He wouldn't visit anymore; it would hurt too much and the doctors said he would get a call first thing if anything happened.

With a shaky sigh, he pushed the chair away to stand up and adjusted his shirt. Sam moved a little closer to her bedside and linked his fingers with hers. He bent down one last time and kissed Andy again, putting all the love that he could into it. She now had his heart. If she died, part of him went with her.

He closed his eyes, then reopened them and began to lean back, when he felt a light, but very noticeable twitch from inside the cage of his hand that held Andy's. Quickly, he let go of it and stood back, eyes going a million miles an hour to see if there would be anymore movement from her long-still body.

Minutes passed with no change, and that's when Sam gave up on all hope. Nothing would ever change. McNally was gone.

That was when her eyelids abruptly fluttered open and Sam saw deep chocolate brown irises gazing into his eyes for the first time in days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue or any of the characters from it.**

Everything felt new; alive, like being born for the first time. At least, that's how it felt to Andy. Her mind felt so open, almost like there was an infinite amount of space inside her skull. But even with so much openness, it was extraordinarily difficult for her to process exactly what she had heard only a few seconds ago and cross-reference it with what she was seeing now. She could have sworn on her grandmother's grave that a man had been saying things to her, things that she listened to but could not fully comprehend. What she did know was that she was staring into a stressed and anxious looking man's eyes with utter confusion. She squinted a little bit and cocked her head as if that would somehow help her process her current situation better than it was doing already.

Who was this guy with her? And where was she anyway? Bah! Andy just wanted all of these questions answered immediately but it was apparent that she wasn't going to get anything clarified any time soon. She continued to gaze at the man whilst he gazed back at her. Andy ran his face through her mental facial recognition software, but nothing came up.

He had black tousled hair, a police uniform that looked like it had come straight from the dry-cleaners, dark circles under his deep eyes, a five o'clock shadow, and the scent of manly cologne that made her nose feel happy about what it was sniffing.

Regardless of these features, nothing came to mind about who exactly this guy was. Andy tried to remember. She tried real hard to recall something, anything that would help explain at least some things.

One event suddenly came to mind; a building. Yes! An old, run-down, dark building and a gunshot. No, two gunshots. Lights. Sirens. Here. Here? Where? Andy sighed.

Still, while she was trying to remember, she stared at the man. Then he spoke.

"Andy?" he asked in a barely audible whisper.

That voice. She should know that voice. His hand reached out to her and it was then that Andy realized she was on a bed. Then she started to feel lightheaded. She blinked. "My head," Andy moaned and brought her stiff-feeling hand up to the side of her pounding skull.

A smile crept across the man's face and his dull eyes brightened, seemingly ignoring her words of pain. "Andy," he said again. Then he turned abruptly and shot out of the room yelling, "Nurse!" His footsteps faded.

Andy could feel the blood rushing through her veins and arteries and it was not pleasant. She cried out and pushed her fingers to her screaming temples.

Just before she could bare it no longer, it occurred to her.

Sam!

She blacked out.

* * *

Andy felt like a changed person. No, she was changed. For good.

She had awoken twenty minutes after blacking out to a handful of people around her bedside including a nurse, a doctor, a newly recognized Sam, her father, Luke, and Gail of all people. When Andy looked at Luke, a spark of something ignited within her, but she pushed it away. Everyone explained what had happened to her in a rush and she was to be discharged the following morning. It had all been a lot for Andy to take in.

That was four days ago. Andy sat on the couch of her apartment with her legs underneath her and a cold cup of coffee in her hand. Her superiors had insisted she take a personal week, not only to be able to monitor her recovery, but to mentally recover. She was sick of it. Andy was strong and she knew it. She wanted to go back to work and be worthy; not just mope around and sulk and seek sympathy. The old Andy would have done that. She was the new Andy, and the new Andy was hard-core.

She sighed aloud. The whole place stank of a mixture of new and dying flowers from people who were sorry for her. So she got hurt doing her job? Danger was a part of it for God's sake! You don't ever see people giving this many "I'm so sorry's" to a doctor who just got off a 24 hour shift and lost a ton of sleep. It's. Part. Of. The. Job. Deal.

God, she just wanted to be left alone to do her job and live her life and for people to stop wasting their money buying flowers that would just die anyway and would go unappreciated by anyone.

Andy listened to the ticking of the brass clock on the wall above her. _Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

"Augh!" she yelled. She wanted to _do_ something. Anything. She jumped up off of her white couch and dumped her un-touched coffee in the sink. Because she had had so much time on her hands, the kitchen was spotless except for the coffee draining down the sink and the cup tipped on its side in the basin.

Andy circled around the kitchen and living room once, twice, a third time, looking for something that needed tidying, something that needed polishing. But everything was in order or had been done already. She stopped abruptly at the kitchen counter and put her elbows on the cool surface, placed her head in her hands, rubbed her temples.

Sleep. Maybe if she slept, she would wake up and time would have flown by and it would suddenly be Monday—the day of which work would begin again for her.

She brushed her teeth, getting rid of all coffee taste, put on comfy flannel pants, and pulled back the welcoming covers to her bed.

A knock on her door.

Fantastic.

She groaned and thought to herself, "Great. More f***ing flowers" Whatever. They could be left there for later or stolen for all Andy cared. She ignored the pounding and put her right knee under the covers when a voice said, "Andy!"

_Huh?_ Flower people don't say your name. Well, they say curiosity killed the cat, but Andy was certainly no cat, so she went to her front door and swung it open before bothering to look through the peep-hole.

"Andy! I'm so glad that you're here. May I come in?" Andy looked at him quizzically. He held a single red rose in his capable hand. "Oh, Andy, I'm just so glad you're alright. You don't even know," he said and embraced her suddenly in a warm bear-hug.

Andy reacted fast and pushed him off with enough force to make him stumble and catch himself in the doorway. "Andy?" he asked, almost hurt.

"What the hell, Sam?" Andy pronounced incredulously.

**Review please! Thank you so much! =]**


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